Remembering
by mems1223
Summary: Three generations. Three experiments. Three super-humans. The first, who wants his family. The second, who was forced to kill. The third, who will do anything to remember. But ghosts from their pasts start appearing, and the British government, S.H.I.E.L.D., and Starfleet watch their every move. How will they survive in our world, if our world was made for humans?(startrek xover 2)
1. Do not fear death

**Hi guys!**

 **This is based on a dream I had last night.**

 **I don't own Marvel, BBC's Sherlock, or Star Trek.**

 **Here you go.**

* * *

Prologue, Part 1

 _Do not fear death._

 _Do not run, for death will find you, no matter where you hide._

 _Do not look back._

* * *

Breaths shook in the quiet house, hearts hammering behind closed doors. Bodies tensed in anxiousness, waiting. Waiting for it to be over, waiting to come out of hiding, to live and breathe again. Or for the opposite.

Waiting for death.

She knew, from the moment he told her, that they were doomed. That they had hours, minutes, and not the years they told them to keep the smaller ones calm.

No matter where they hid, he would find them eventually.

That is why she stood up, leaving her trembling six-year-old sister, telling her that she would be back. That is why she hid her ten-year-old brother in a separate room, not with his sister, telling him that it was safer to be separated.

In reality, she didn't want him to watch as the man, the hunter, killed their sister, and then came for him.

That is why she drugged them, slipping a sedative into their food. She didn't want them to panic. She wanted them to have a peaceful death.

She refused to do so, though, no matter how many times he told her it was a good idea. She did not want to die at the hands of a man a coward, too scared to be awake at his arrival. She would be brave.

She had accepted her death.

She waited with the man who had done so much for her. He had told her the truth about the man who was coming. He had hidden her siblings to secure their peace of mind, he had supplied her with the sedative.

He had cared for them after their parents died at the hands of the same man. He had used his own resources to teach them, take care of them.

He had been there at the beginning, and he would be there to the end.

* * *

Mycroft Holmes watched her as she sat, contemplating the arrival of the man. He had warned her, multiple times. He had seen what the man did to her parents, and to the others like her. He had killed more than half of them, leaving only a fourth of the original test subjects able to complete the second phase of testing. But this time would be different.

Darkness fell outside the house, keeping those awake unable to see the backyard from where they sat in the dining room. The sliding glass door reflected the small lamp, the only source of light, illuminating the porch, plunging everything beyond into even darker night.

The girl sat, staring at the paper in her hands. Her mother had written the small poem, her careful cursive fading, after years of adorning the paper.

 _Do not fear death._

 _Do not run, for death will find you, no matter where you hide._

 _Accept your death. Do not cower, do not flinch._

 _Stand tall, chin up, shoulders back, and when death arrives, greet it at the door._

 _Invite them in, welcome them, tell them about yourself._

 _Tell them you are ready._

 _Do not look back._

A noise outside made the pair look up. In the darkness of the night, they could hear the soft crunch of grass under boots, the heavy breathing of someone trying to keep quiet after running.

He had arrived.

* * *

His dark brown hair hung around his face, a black combat jacket accentuating his muscular frame. He had multiple weapons on his person, ranging from the hunting knife peeking out of his boot, to the large gun strapped to his back.

He wore no mask, nothing covering his face. His dark eyes swirled with emotion, in stark contrast with his stoic face.

She stood up, acknowledging his presence. She unlocked the sliding door, opening it.

"I've been waiting for you."

She gestured with her hand, inviting him inside. Her gaze was met by a look of curiosity and confusion, but he complied.

After he had stepped inside, she closed the door. He had tensed, as if expecting a trap. He looked at her, distrust coloring his face.

She ignored it, walking over and resuming her spot at the table.

"My brother and sister are in the bedrooms." Her voice shook, betraying her calm. "They're asleep. It's more peaceful that way, y'know?"

He glanced at her, then at Mycroft, who simply sat there, holding his umbrella. Seeing him to be no threat, he continued down the hallway.

Finding the children was easy, his enhanced hearing catching every breath coming from their mouth, betraying their hiding spots. He finished them off quickly, spilling none of their blood, leaving their bodies intact.

He returned to the dining room, to his last target. She hadn't moved, staying in the same position he had left her in.

He paused, knowing that she knew these were her last few minutes, her last few breaths.

"My mom always told me to be brave, because everyone dies eventually. I'm trying to be brave, but it's not working. I guess it's because I'm not scared of death. I _am_ scared, but not of death. I'm not scared of you, either." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "I'm scared of how I'm going to die."

She turned to look at him. "I don't want it to hurt."

He frowned slightly. No one had ever told him that before. No one had even accepted his arrival before. Everyone always begged him to not kill them, or tried to run, or tried to fight.

But she was different.

She stood up and walked towards him. "I'm ready to die." She paused. "I haven't lived long enough, but that doesn't matter. It's not up to me to decide how long I live."

She took another shaky breath, steadying herself, then did something he never had expected.

She ran up and hugged him.

He looked down at her, shock on his face. Then, slowly, he relaxed, so as not to startle her. He wrapped his metal arm around her back, cradling her head and shoulders with his right hand, drawing her towards him as she started to sob.

"I'm ready to die, I'm ready to die!" She repeated herself, over and over again. He cradled her, rocking back and forth, comforting her quietly.

She sighed, breathing deeply to calm herself. He looked down at her, meeting her gaze. She nodded slightly. "I'm ready to die."

She buried her face in his jacket. He sighed, frowning slightly, his expression then turning to one of sorrow.

The muscles in his right arm rippled, a muffled cracking sound echoing through the quiet house. Her body slumped against his, his quick reflexes catching her before she collapsed. He lowered her gently to the ground, cradling her head with his large hand, her once sparkling eyes faded, her soft, delicate features peaceful for the first time that night.

He looked at the man. Seeing him make no move, he walked towards the door to the backyard, where he faded back into the night.

She was dead.

* * *

 **Sorry!**

 **I'll try to update soon, but I gave up fanfiction for the Catholic season of Lent, a time of fasting, preparation, and prayer before Easter, so no reading or writing fanfiction for forty days! So now I have a bunch of other stories that need updating, so I will be really busy!**

 **Please check out my other stories! You can find them on my profile page.**

 **What should the girl's name be?**

 **Who is the hunter?**

 **Please review!**

 **Love,  
mems1223**


	2. Life is a gift

**Hi Guys!**

 **I lied. I didn't take that long to update. Yay!**

 **Just to clear it up, (unless you didn't think of this, then it doesn't really matter) the girl didn't murder her brother and sister. Even if Mycroft had hidden them in the most secure vault in the world, the man still would have killed them. He was that good. He could break into any place on the planet.**

 **Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

Mycroft waited for the man to leave before standing up.

He walked over to the mantle above the fireplace in the room, gently tipping over a carving of an angel holding a child, revealing a small button.

He pressed it.

A panel in the wall opened up, revealing a high tech elevator, in which a team of eight scientists emerged, four going to the girl on the floor, the others to the children in the back rooms. The four scientists with the girl started placing devices on her, running tests, taking measurements, monitoring her body temperature, rate of decay, brain activity, and others.

A well dressed man emerged from the elevator last, walking over to where Mycroft was standing, watching the activities taking place. He was tall, taller than the older man beside him, and though they looked fairly different, they had a few similar striking features.

"Dear brother, do you honestly believe that those experiments of yours will work?" Sherlock Holmes asked, his voice laced with doubt.

Mycroft Holmes sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. "Brother mine, the experiments have been modified since we were the test subjects those many years ago. Why do you think they used infants? Because that way, they would grow up, learn to control their body and mind as many children do, with their enhanced mind. They found that if the experiments were spaced over time, starting at infancy, and continuing on until adulthood, that the percentage of positive effects shown by the subjects would increase by 67.85%, due to the fact that they had mastered control over their enhanced emotions and mind at an early age, for that is all they had known! If we do not initiate this last phase of testing, we will have lost yet another subject! We would only have two dozen left, and seeing as this last experiment enhances the bodily functions as well as the rate of recovery, then this possibly could revive her!"

Sherlock shook his head. "Dearest brother, do you not recall the small fact that one's brain cells start to die in as little as three minutes without oxygen? Surely you know that it has been a significant amount of time longer, and the poor girl's brain is probably damaged beyond repair."

Mycroft clucked his tongue. "You disappoint me, brother. The last test the girl was subject to enhanced her stamina and metabolism, and because of the subjects that were lost after they successfully completed the experiment, we know that the body and mind do not start to decay until at least thirty minutes after passing. Therefore, one can conclude that this final trial still has a 75% success rate, and that it is critical we get her to her pod within 10 minutes."

He looked back at the scientists.

They had finished their measurements and had placed the girl on a stretcher. They had changed her clothes, from the t-shirt and jeans she had worn to a dark grey tunic and matching gray leggings. A small machine pumped an intravenous medication throughout her system, while a scientist held the bag. Two other scientists carried her, and the last carried the supplies they had brought up. They hurried back into the elevator, the two men following behind, careful not to get in their way. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent.

After a few minutes of silence, the elevator doors slid open, no bell announcing their arrival. They could not have any distracting noise, because if they did, their experimentation could be disturbed.

In the middle of the large underground room stood twenty-five cryopods, each connected to its own control station, each inhabitant in a cryosleep, a frozen hibernation, during which the subjects would be injected with DNA-altering chemicals, slowly becoming better, stronger versions of their former selves, becoming something many could only dream of.

Becoming superhumans.

* * *

They were the third generation, the third group to go through the process. Theirs was by far the longest period of testing, but also undoubtedly the most successful, the most in control.

The first group, known as the first generation, consisted of a group of handpicked individuals, adults, chosen for their extraordinary talents, and experimented on over the course of a few years. Due to the experiments, their genetic and chemical makeup changed in an unnaturally short amount of time, resulting in the mental destability of more than a quarter of the subjects-all those who had been chosen for their extraordinary mental capabilities.

The second group, or second generation, consisted of a group of adolescents, who were just beginning to go through puberty. They were chosen for their extraordinary talents as well, but the thought was to test them during puberty, when their bodies were changing, developing, and that way their bodies would respond to the tests in a more positive way. At the conclusion of the experiments, there _were_ more positive results, but during the process, the subjects had more mood swings than the first generation, due to changes in the levels of hormones in their bodies, and more lab accidents occurred.

This time, though, they had started the tests on infants, only six months old, in order to see the effects of the experiments on developing children. They had completed all but one experiment, and were currently prepping the cryopods for it.

The scientists rushed the girl to the last available pod. This was her home, her cryopod, and she had been practically raised in it, starting from the time they placed her in there as an infant, continuing every night, until the subjects were age ten. At that point, they wiped the test subject's memories, implanting fake, but believable ones, and gave them to the scientists to take in as their children. They had been monitored for five years, seeing how they interacted with the outside world, before finally returning to their cryopods for their final experiment.

They had returned a few weeks before the girl's death, and they had been in hybernation, being monitored for that period of time. The scientists waited patiently for the girl to arrive, for they couldn't start the experiment until she was there.

Mycroft Holmes surveyed the scene before him. "The final test hasn't started yet, has it?" He asked quietly.

The head scientist shook his head. "They're in cryosleep. We physically cannot activate the experiment until she is inside and hibernating alongside the others. The computers are programmed with their chips, and, at least until hers is deactivated, it still thinks she is alive."

Mycroft nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Hopefully, after this is over, she will be. Until then, we must wait."

He walked around the room, looking at each sleeping face. They had lost so many. This was the final test. The determiner, the one that could end everything, or make it even better. He grimaced. _It must work_ , he thought.

The sleeping faces were so peaceful, completely oblivious. They were the final group. Subject 2, who loved reading. Subject 7, the son of one of the scientists. Subject 9 and subject 10, the twin pranksters. 13, 14, the ones everyone would go to for advice. Subjects 17, 18, 19, and 20, who dreamed of adventures. 21, her twin sister, 22, was dead. 29, 35, and 43, who would always fight over little things. 47 and 49, the last two of a group of quadruplets. 51, 53, 60, the science behind the twins' pranks. The girl, subject number 68. Her twin brother, 69. 72 and 73, best friends since the beginning. 81, the mathematician. 99, the last.

They had been through so much in their short fifteen years. They had lost friends, family, to sickness, assassins, accidents. The worst was when one was lost to a cryopod malfunction. It was rare, but it happened. The pods were supposed to be their safe havens, their support systems, which kept them alive during the tests, but how were they supposed to be safe when the pods could stop supplying oxygen at any time?

Those accidents always left the subjects filled with fear, every time they took a body out of a pod, dead. The scientists would then spend weeks checking every remaining pod, making sure they worked perfectly, while the subjects received a very rare vacation to the surface, where they picniced, play games, and warmed in the sun, which never reached the basement lab. Finally, when the scientists deemed them safe, the subjects would return to the basement, to the cryopods, where they would hibernate until the following morning.

"We're ready sir."

* * *

While Mycroft had been observing the subjects, the four scientists had taken the girl to her pod. They set her upright, securing her arms, legs, hands, and feet, as well as her head, so she wouldn't fall during the test. They placed pads connected to wires on her temples, her chest, and on the inside of her left wrist, to monitor bodily functions. At her right elbow they injected an IV, which doubled as amnesia and supplied nutrients to her body. On her left forefinger, they placed a small clamp, which monitored her blood pressure and heart beat. Finally, at her right wrist they injected a six-inch needle, which delivered the chemicals used in the experiment to alter her DNA.

With a hiss, the capsule door closed. The small window showing the girl's face started to frost over, and the fans whirred to life, signaling to the scientists that oxygen was being supplied to the main capsule of the pod.

The head scientist looked to Mycroft for authorization, and Mycroft nodded. He walked over to the main control station, the other scientists moving to the ones behind each pod. The head scientist nodded, then flipped open a cover on the control panel and pressed the button underneath.

Simultaneously, all the scientists pushed the levers on their control panels, activating the mechanisms that controlled the chemical's release.

After starting the final experiment, Mycroft, Sherlock and the head scientist walked over to the station the girl was occupying. They gazed at the screen embedded into her control panel, which was displaying her statistics and body functions.

It seemed an eternity later, as all the scientists and the two gentlemen in the underground labratory held their breath, when the small green line indicating the girl's heartbeat suddenly jumped, causing a small jagged point to break its stillness.

 _Beep-beep._

She was alive.

* * *

 **Yay!**

 **She's alive!**

 **Please, please review! I need suggestions for the girl's name!**

 **Also, who is the hunter? Tell me! (I already know, but I want to see if you can guess.)**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Thanks!**

 **Love,  
mems1223**


	3. AN (I'm so Sorry!)

**Hi Everyone!**

I'm so sorry I created a whole new chapter for an author's note! You probably hate me.

I will not be continuing this story UNTIL November, because I have to watch the Dr. Strange movie first. But don't worry I **will** continue the story.

I'm sorry!

Love,  
mems1223


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